


An Interesting Change

by eattawrites



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Dark, Dark Jareth (Labyrinth), Domestic Violence, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Relationship(s), Physical Abuse, Possessive Behavior, Tags May Change, Unhealthy Relationships, dark themes, domestic abuse, i cant tag the exact relationship bc Spoilies, jareth doesnt deal well with rejection lmao, what a drama king i love him
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:21:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21638752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eattawrites/pseuds/eattawrites
Summary: Jareth, the mighty king of the goblins, has never been the same since the love of his life so cruelly left him with a broken heart. As the years stretched longer and longer, the former great king begins to worry he may never feel love again. That is, until a most interesting wish catches him by surprise after all this mourning.
Relationships: Jareth (Labyrinth)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31





	1. A Wish

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place a very long time after a weird amalgamation of the book and movie. Jareth is much colder and crueler than before, and may not be suitable for some readers.

It’s been years since he’d last seen her, that terrible girl who forever ruined his life. He’s never forgiven her for what she’s done. What a beautiful mortal she’d been, her delicate porcelain skin, her long chocolate brown hair, those bright green jewels. He’d never, not once, known love before her. But that girl, that human, that _child_ , had gone and ruined him for all of eternity. As soon as he’d heard her words in his chamber, he’d fallen for her. He’d rushed to the mortal world at once, knowing he _had_ to have a taste of the girl. But Jareth, always having a flare for the dramatic, had waited patiently, quietly, watching, waiting. He’d watched her, in her beautiful long green dress, frolicking in the field, reciting _his words_ to him, an unknowing victim to his labyrinth. But he wasn’t sure if it was what he wanted, watching such a silly child with the voice of an angel prance around, quoting the book he’d laid in the mortal world for the sole purpose of his labyrinth.  
  
  
Still, would it really be such a crime? Taking such a beautiful woman, no matter the age, to _his_ domain, toying with her, _breaking_ her until she was _**exactly**_ what he wanted? No, that was no crime at all. He was a fae after all, there was no such thing as too far. What he pleased, he’d get, end of. And what he’d wanted, so long ago? _**Her.**_  
  
  
And obviously, he didn’t have her all these years later. The once powerful and mighty king of the labyrinth was sulked in his study, wine in hand and glowering at the portrait before him. It was _beautiful_ , an exact replica to how she’d been on that night, the night he was _**sure**_ she truly did love him, like she’d _**leave**_ that little brat to be with _**him**_ , the all-powerful Jareth, king of the goblins and ruler of the labyrinth. With the sudden spark of anger thinking of the child, _his_ child, **their** child brought, Jareth threw the bottle on the ground with a snarl of contempt. Damn her! _Damn him!_ **Damn them!** _**Damn it all!**_ Watching the deep red shatter on the cold stone floor below, the intoxicating wine splashing about before him, his anger subsided, and he sunk back into his comfortable, plush chair.  
  
  
“Oh, you _precious_ thing,” he wailed, his pale hand covering his mismatched eyes from the light. “Oh, _**my**_ precious little thing, how **could** you? After _**everything**_ I’d **done** for _you!”_  
  
  
Jareth cried and carried on, drunk and lost as he reminisced of her. Everything he’d done since he’d laid eyes on her, it’s _**all**_ been for her, she was his **everything.** He really hadn’t asked her for much, had he? Her fear, her love, her _**loyalty,**_ it was all he wanted from her, and in return he’d spoil her like a true fae queen. That seemed like more than a fair deal, yet she’d _**still**_ chosen to leave with **his _child._**  
  
  
Before Jareth could brood much longer on the greatest loss of his life, something had made his head turn and his tears cease. He could have _sworn_ he’d heard a voice just now, small, scared, timid, _weak;_ but _**just**_ as beautiful as the one he’d love from so long ago. As soon as it had come it had gone, and Jareth was deeply worried. Had she finally driven him so crazy he was hearing her voice in his dreams _**and**_ out of them? Before he could ponder this question further, he’d heard it again, singing much louder, much _**stronger**_ than anyone ever had, even his darling little thing. The once formidable king summoned a crystal and searched the mortal world with glee, a smile he’d _**never**_ known quite like this stretching his face beyond normal, his heartbeat in his ears. No one had called on him since that little wench had called on him for her child, and with how long that had been, he was sure this profound emotion flaring within him was excitement.  
  
  
The king was saddened to see that his little red leather-bound book had switched hands so far that it had traveled across the globe, resting in an entirely different continent than he’d last left it. How sad it was, to think she’d go so far to mock him as to sell his book, the thing that’d kept her on her feet during the most _**awful**_ of stages in her life. As the crystal slowly homed in on its exact location, his madness-stricken smile stretched farther and farther along his face, his heart on the verge of giving out it was so excited. A little town in the forest, then a little cottage at the edge of the forest, then a young girl’s bedroom. Yes, it really did seem some things never changed, the goblin king thought fondly as he felt his chest grow warm. He could see his book now, sitting upon a desk of light wood, obviously well loved by the current owner, seeing as it was the only book not tucked away with the others.  
  
  
“But the _voice!_ Show me _**who the voice is!”**_ His booming order sent the scene in the crystal ball sharply turning, showing a young woman at the window of her room, sobbing with such _**passion**_ he’d never seen before. How perfect, the king thought, his eyes scanning her form with extreme intrigue, interest, love, there was a million ways for him to describe it, yet none could properly do his mind justice.  
  
  
She spoke in a tongue he’d never known, standing there before the rain and glass, screaming with a boom to her delicate little frame. There was, however, one thing he’d understood, clear as day, and that was the wish she was now religiously reciting, over and over.  
  
  


“I wish the goblin king would just come and take me away from it all.”

What a peculiar little wish it was, one Jareth had never known before. Usually his victims would wish for the disappearance of someone they loved after a scuffle, one he was _**always**_ more than happy to exploit upon. Hell, even his champion, the one and only, had wished for the child to be gone. And what great joy it always brought him to whisk them away when they demanded he give the child back, watching their hardships in his land, laughing at their pain, enjoying their struggle. Jareth could never be sure what he enjoyed more, their death by their own arrogance and stupidity, or their failure when they gave up and were forced home to remember and _**feel**_ the weight of their guilt for wishing such an awful thing upon the people they loved. He had to admit, it was always fun watching them suffer after, being the only one to remember their loved one had existed. Oh, what a wonderful life he lived with these wishes. But this? Oh, this was _far_ different, and _**far**_ more interesting than his usual.

With a wave of his hand Jareth was as clean and refined as the day he’d met his precious little champion, smirking as he opened a portal with his magic and entered the human realm. He entered the little room easily, hidden under the guise of cloaking magic, he simply stood in the corner and watched, waiting curiously and patiently for the _perfect_ time to strike. The girl’s screams and sobs showed no signs of stopping, so the king contented himself to observing their surroundings, the girl’s room he’d realized, for the time being.

It wasn’t at all what he had been expecting, his previous victims always had cluttered little places to call home, their safe spaces when life was at its worse. But this? If it wasn’t for the ratty nest of blankets at the girl’s bed, he would’ve sworn it was nothing more than a guest bedroom at first glance. Carefully, he tiptoed closer to the instrument of rest, looking down upon it while its owner was none the wiser. On the table beside it, he noted a tiny little orange leaflet. He gave it a quick scan with his eyes, unable to read the text, but from what Jareth gathered it was an institution of some sort. And if the little piece of paper besides it scrawled with numbers and what he assumed was currency symbols, it was one far out of the simple woman’s price range. He gave a quiet hum, the storm roaring as he did so, thankfully masking the beautiful, melodic noise from his latest victim. He examined her desk and neatly tucked away books. Shakespeare, Lovecraft, Shelley, Stoker, Homer; the girl obviously had an eye for fine literature. Yes, he would get along with her quite nicely, if she proved to be _**anything**_ at all like his precious little champion.

Just as he was about to grab one, he’d never heard of this title before, the window gently shutting and subduing the sound of the storm caught his attention, and he backed himself into a corner of the little room to give her some space to walk. It wouldn’t do well to have a previously distraught woman bumping into what she perceived to be thin air. He watched her climb into the bubble of blankets she’s made for a bed with a wicked grin and moved to the window, waiting for the tell-tale signs of a strike of thunder and lightning when she was asleep. Yes, that was the perfect entrance to make, one that would have her _cowering_ in fear, just like _**her**_ all those years ago. Jareth easily slunk to the closed window and waited, hand at the ready as he watched and waited, back to the storm. With a flourish he waved his hand, uncloaking his invisibility spell and opening the window. With a clash of thunder and lightning, he smirked, watching the girl propel herself up and out of bed, body shaking as she faced the goblin king.

“Ah… Du… Du bist….” That frail, melodic voice was trembling, and Jareth decided despite the harsh tongue she spoke in, it was a most wonderful sound on his ears after all these years of absence.

“Come now love, spit it out.” He didn’t dare let the girl know just how _**excited**_ he was to finally have a new plaything, but as hard as he tried, Jareth couldn’t hide the cruel smirk stretched across his mouth.

“Goblin King,” she wailed, a fountain of tears falling from her eyes. Yes, what a wonderful sight this was, something his champion had never given him.

“Yes, little Eatta, and I’ve come to fulfill your wish. You said it yourself, and we all heard it.” Jareth delighted in the look on her face when he’d spoken her name, a mix of fear and interest. How perfect it was, having something so vulnerable before him. And the scream punching through her lungs when the goblins were magicked into her room was so sweet, heavenly, _perfectly delectable_ as they tore the room apart. “Come now darling, you wanted this after all, remember?”

Jareth wasn’t even sure she could understand what he was saying as he watched her stare at him from where she’d collapsed on the floor. Just as he had turned to purposely pace around, assuming this would be the part where poor little Eatta would beg for her wish to be revoked, a determined, soft but firm “yes” grabbed his attention.

He faced the mortal, face revealing how puzzled he was by her determination. _“What?”_

“Yes,” she spoke just as firmly again, another strike of lightening causing her to jump just the slightest beneath his gaze. With the momentary flash of light, he could have sworn some otherworldly being had possessed the once timid girl, eyes shining ruby red with fierceness.

“I wish… Goblin King… Take me…” Eatta fumbled her words in between her hiccups and moans of anguish, and if it wasn’t for the fierceness in her face Jareth would have _**sworn**_ it was just her regretfully muttering the wish that had brought him before her.

With precision Jareth stepped before the girl, smirking as he watched her previous boldness shrink before him, trying and failing to duck out of his reach. He easily ceased Eatta up by the arm, smirk turning cruel as he hauled her up to her feet, peering down at her with interest. With a flourishing wave of his hand he turned and went back to the open window, whistling a loud, high, sharp note that caused pain to Eatta’s head. All at once the goblin’s quit their wreckage of the tiny room, grabbing anything they could and rushing out. As Jareth went to step forward and back into the window, opening a portal back to the underground, he felt his victim thrashing against him.

Before he could turn and harshly scold her, he saw her outstretched hand, and followed its direction with his eyes. A goblin, a bed, knocked over pictures, ah yes, it makes sense now. Books. He held her tight, delighting in her panicked expression as she kept _trying_ to get at her _**treasures.**_ With a sinister laugh and grin, he pulled Eatta _**hard**_ through the portal, savoring her foreign cries and pleas for the stories.

“You won’t need _those_ where we’re going,” Jareth smirked, dragging her along through the portal, Eatta’s screams of despair mixing in with the cheers of the goblins.


	2. A Deal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who wrote this instead of studying for her Art History exam? Ding ding ding, this bitch.

All at once the ground under Eatta’s feet was gone, leaving her floating in the void with only the harsh hold of the Goblin King’s hands upon her arms and shoulders. Instead of trying to escape like she had previously, Eatta found herself clinging to Jareth, the feeling of floating in the nothingness nauseating. As quickly as the world left another came, compressing the air around her and making her feel small and weak, like a spec of sand lost in the ocean. The air was completely gone, and her lungs began to burn, mouth hung open in a silent plea as the ground suddenly rushed back to her feet and her kidnapper let her go, falling into a heap on the ground. Eatta hacked and wheezed from where she lay crumpled on the ground, the laughter of the Goblin King far and distant, echoing in the empty space around her. As air began to refill her lungs, she was able to notice more within the sounds, like faint cheering and the small, slimy, cold hands tugging at her frame.  
  
“Quiet! Cease! You will _**not**_ lay your disgusting little hands on her!” There was a scream and loud crash followed by annoying laughter as she forced her eyes open, lungs back in working condition as she sat up. The goblin king was in a blind rage above her, wild hair and screaming making him appear to her like a chicken with his feathers ruffled and mused. The room became silent as all eyes turned to Eatta, who couldn’t help from laughing at the king.  
  
As her laughter died down, she stood up and brushed herself off, grinning at Jareth, who was puzzled and still just as furious. She held out a pale hand to the fae, smiling brightly.  
  
“Danke schoun, Goblin King. Ich heisse Eatta.” Jareth was taken aback by her complete 180 attitude, sizing her up with his eyes as he watched her intently. He took her hand, locking eyes with her as he gave it a firm, tight, unbearable shake.  
  
“Your language is harsh, but your voice is soft, Eatta. I must admit I’ve never had a wish quite like yours, but I do think it’ll be fairly interesting to comply.” He tugged her closer by their interlocked hands, seizing her jaw with his free one, gloved nails digging into her cheeks as he delighted in watching her squirm. “What an interesting creature you are, I’ve never known a mortal from Aboveground to look like you.” He gave a cruel smirk as he watched her red eyes shift from pleasant surprise to confused fear, trying and failing to free her hand from his hold.  
  
“Ich… I… Understand little… English…” She fumbled the words out, grabbing at Jareth’s wrist and trying to free her face. The short white hair was tussled and mused around her, framing Eatta’s face in a way that Jareth found something _**tugging**_ familiarity at the strings of his heart.  
  
“Shame,” he responded simply, letting her wrist go to summon another crystal, rolling it around in his hand mindlessly as he watched her. Jareth spoke his next words slowly, “I grant wishes.” He delighted in the look of understanding washing over her features, eyes glazing over as she took in what he’d said.  
  
“Yes,” she replied; eyes fixated on the crystal ball in his hand. Jareth took notice and smirked, stilling the motions as he held it before her. Eatta watched as shapes took place within the crystal ball, the fragrance of the air around her shifting to a subtle hint of sweet peaches.  
  
“I will grant your wish,” he hummed, bringing the crystal ball closer to her eyes, where Eatta could see herself surrounded in books and dressed in fine clothes, not a care or worry in her stance. “But it will be for a price.”  
  
_“Please,”_ she fumbled, barely above a whisper as her hands moved from trying to free her face to bringing his crystal ball closer. “Mehr.”  
  
Before Eatta could grasp it, Jareth tossed it in the air where it vanished, the king quickly turning the girl around and pulling her flush against him, his face tucked into the side of her head. His warm breath tickled the shell of her ear as he whispered, smiling. “Just let me rule you, Eatta, and I’ll make all your fantasies a reality.”  
  
“Was ist,” the albino stumbled, a lump forming in her throat as she tried to turn her head away from him. “What is… rule, mean?” She was trembling in his hold, and the deep chuckling pressed against her delicate little ear only made it worse.  
  
“Just fear me, _love_ me, _**do as I say,**_ and _I_ will be **your _slave.”_** Jareth’s hands had moved to Eatta’s hips, gloved claws digging into the fabric of her nightgown. She fumbled over her words, switching back and forth from English to German, unable to formulate a proper sentence in either.  
  
“Yes,” she suddenly gasped out, and when Jareth sensed her legs about to give, he wrapped an arm around her form to hold Eatta close to him. The goblin king smirked into her neck at the weak answer, grabbing her right hand tightly.  
  
“That’s not the correct answer, darling,” he cooed crudely, trailing kisses up the side of her neck and back to her ear. “Just say I do, goblin king.”  
  
“I…” Eatta swallowed the lump in her throat, grabbing at her night gown.  
  
“I…” She could feel Jareth’s smirk against her skin, hovering over the heartbeat in her throat.  
  
“I…” Her eyes glanced around in a panic, the ugly little creatures watching her form intently.  
  
“I…” Her cheeks were wet, but she couldn’t figure out why, her hands too numb and senseless for Eatta to reach up and discover what was wrong with her.  
  
“I do… Goblin King…”  
  
Jareth’s smirk grew at the sounds of her sobbing, whirling the girl around to cup her face gently, shushing her as he rubbed her tears away with his leather-bound thumbs. “Oh _precious,_ I **knew** you’d be so _**good**_ for me.” He pressed a kiss to Eatta’s forehead, chuckling as he saw her shoulders shaking in the cold air of his castle. “Oh _**darling,**_ you’re absolutely _frigid,_ here, let me fix you!”  
  
He summoned the white feathery jacket he’d had to say goodbye to _**her**_ in, draping it around Eatta’s shoulders before bundling her in it. “Oh, how frail you are, my precious little thing, so very delicate. You’re but a treasure to be protected, aren’t you?”  
  
Before she could say anything, Jareth grabbed her left hand harshly, pulling it close and making the girl cry out in pain. “Oh, _**enough**_ of that, you’ve done enough crying tonight! I need to seal the agreement, damn it Eatta, **stop your damn fussing!”** The way he yelled at her was enough to still her, sobs renewed as he slipped a small, fine ring on her second to last finger, smiling to himself as he took in the sight. He never thought he’d get to see the day he did this, especially after _**she**_ came and ruined it all for him.  
  
“Bitte… P-Please… King…” That frail little voice singing so sweetly the songs of despair to him was enough to snap Jareth out of his thoughts, catching sight of his newly found treasure. The look on her face, the air of pure fear she gave off, was enough to make him feel so very lucky to have her, but he _knew_ if he treated her this way, it would only end in a repeat of the previous, and he _**couldn’t**_ have that.  
  
He let her go, suppressing a chuckle as he saw her trip and fall over the huge coat and onto the floor, lost beneath the massive amounts of fabric of his coat. The king of the goblins watched her momentarily, the bundle kicking and flailing as she screamed and cried. The goblins watched with bated breath, none being brave enough to go near her again after the order they were given. With precision point accuracy he grabbed one of her wrists again, suppressing his delight in the way she screamed and kicked back as if burned by a branding iron.  
  
“Darling, please, this is unbecoming of a queen.” Jareth spoke smoothly and calmly, watching her fight die ever so slightly, but still trying to retract her wrist from his hold. “I’m sorry Eatta, believe me, I am. I just wanted you to see the ring I’d worked so hard on, just for _you,_ my precious little lover.” He watched her stop and decided now was the perfect moment to rip the coat from her and bare the German girl to him once again. “Did you like your gift? It’s an engagement ring, my treasure.” He grabbed her hand ever so gently again, pressing a kiss to the back of it as Eatta looked at the fine band of gold with confusion.  
  
“We’re to be married, my darling, now please, won’t you grace me with that beautiful little smile of yours again? I know you can, Eatta, I’ve seen it before. Come now, don’t be shy, I’m your fiancé after all.” The smile she gave him was a little forced, but her tears had stopped, and for the time being, it was enough to keep Jareth content.  
  
“Du… Du sagst… Marriage?” She swallowed thickly, trying to take the ring off to better inspect it, only to find it wouldn’t budge, which sent the girl into another panic.  
  
Jareth cupped her hands, nodding as he spoke gently. “Yes, Eatta, _marriage,_ you wanted this after all, _**remember?”**_ He kissed her forehead again and went to work smoothing her hair down, the coat having made it a rat nest. “You told me “I do” and now we’re bound in agreement to be married. Why, don’t you remember my proposal and wedding vows?”  
  
Numb understanding overtook Eatta and she felt fresh tears prick her eyes, scalding her cheeks in the chill room as they cascaded down her face. Even with what little English she knew, the girl could tell his wording had been _strange._ The very fact a simple answer wouldn’t be able to suffice his demands should have been enough to give his terrible ploy away to her and it wasn’t, not until she said that dreaded little two-word phrase he’d wanted her so _**badly**_ to utter. This hadn’t been what she’d meant when she’d wished to be taken away by the goblin king, and this _wasn’t_ what she’d **dreamed of** when she wanted to be taken care of in life.  
She’d been so lost in thought that the sudden reappearance of that smothering coat being buddle around her again almost made the girl shriek, but the look on the king’s face was enough to frighten her into keeping quiet. Quickly, Eatta wiped her eyes and gave him a meek smile, mumbling a quick “es tut mir leid” and holding the warm fabric closer to her cold body.  
  
Jareth was _**enraged**_ by her despair upon realizing just what kind of deal he’d led her into with a silver tongue. She’d been so good to him just a moment ago, so _happy_ to be _**his,**_ so why was it suddenly so soul crushing? He mentally cursed himself for not learning from his _first mistake,_ remembering just want a _**pain**_ a minor species like humans were. His annoyance burned brighter when _something_ had the audacity to grab one of his leather clad hands, snarling as he looked down to see what pathetic excuse of a lifeform had been brave enough to touch _**him.**_  
  
His sudden rage quickly died when he saw a small pale hand entwined around his much larger one, watching it flinch and tremble in response to his attitude. With a tired sigh he gently grabbed the frail hand, looking up at the human girl to find her struggling to hold back her tears and a _**delectable**_ expression of fear painted on her face. That all too primal, familiar grin split across his face as he gently cupped her cheek, bringing her closer to place a chaste kiss on her cheek.  
  
“Oh, my little _treasure,_ I’m so sorry. I didn’t know it was you. You’re tired, aren’t you? Come, let’s get you settled in, you need your sleep, my _**precious**_ little thing.” Easily, he picked up his delicate prize from a clever game of cunning and held her close. Jareth was surprised he could even _do_ this, having been neglecting his image for quite some time. He tried not to think about _**why**_ he’d been neglecting himself as he easily strode down the halls to the second most lavish room in his castle, delighting in the way Eatta kept looking over his shoulder and wouldn’t stop _shaking_ in his hold.  
  


Oh yes, this was going to be **quite** interesting indeed.


	3. A Glance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Depression be like: don't update fic for over a month and then feel bad for taking me time.

When Eatta awoke the sun was gently kissing her eyelids and dancing across her cheeks, warming her exposed skin in the chilly air. She plunged deeper into her nest of blankets and sighed contently. The storm must have put her fast-asleep last night, and her alarm hadn't gone off, so it must be the weekend. It was a rare occurrence for her to be so happy in the morning, especially when she was stuck at home on the weekends, but she was so comfy it made all her cares slip away from her sleep clouded brain.  
  
However, unfortunately, the fog was slowly clearing, and things became less and less serene for her. It wasn't the weekend; she'd slept through her alarm and was late. With a stretch she'd learned her bed felt bigger than usual, and a few good pats made her suspect these weren't her usual blankets.  
  
The lanky girl shot up with her eyes wide open as she remembered the man in her window, breath growing faster in a state of panic as her eyes shot around the mysterious room. Oh god, it was real! This horrible place was real, and she had sold herself to a goblin king! Tears pricked her eyes and she hiccuped, beginning to cry as she thought about all the terrible things he might do to her.  
  
She shivered in the cold air, paranoia clawing at the back of her throat that she wasn't safe. For a few moments she tried to force herself to believe it was just from her panicked crying, that she was safe in this room. Ultimately, all this work was in vain as she snapped her head to one side of the room and shrieked in fear.  
  
There he was, watching her intently as if she was nothing more than entertainment to him, waiting for the right moment to strike her. Eatta curled in on herself and covered her face with her hands, the fear and panic from before growing tighter in her chest with every passing moment. Her own throat was closing in on itself, and she was so afraid of suffocating herself that she couldn't hear the rhythmic clacking of boots against stone.  
  
As every dark and terrible thought her mind could come up with was eating her alive Jareth carefully placed his gloved hands on her shoulders, sitting down behind Eatta on the bed. Gently, he rubbed circles into her shoulder blades, watching her panic attack with a curious eye. He'd seen his victims do this numerous times, usually when challenged with something far too great for them to take on. But this? This was pathetic, even for lowly human standards. All she had done was awaken at half past ten. She had no right to be choking on her own tears this morning.  
  
And when she'd felt his hands on her body she shrieked again, curling in around herself tighter and crying even harder. At this rate she'd accidentally choke herself to death, and she was of no use to him dead. Carefully, he brought the frail ball into his lap and snaked a hand through her hair, gently scratching her scalp as he hummed a melodic little tune. He closed his eyes and hummed a little more earnestly, watching his sweetest memories flash before his very eyelids.  
  
His free hand had found its way to her knee and gently rubbed up and down the expanse of one of her milky white legs, a smile gracing his features as he continued his song. The opposite hand ran through the short silver locks, imagining they were longer, darker, and full of expensive ornamentation. A few lyrics tumbled from his lips as his hand snaked down to Eatta's thigh, tracing circles on the skin there and imagining a lost, simpler life he'd known.  
  
The girl's sobs had long since stopped and she was enraptured watching the king sing, trying and failing to decipher his strange words. His treatment of her was gentle, almost loving, and with his eyes closed she wondered what he was singing of. With a sniffle followed by a hiccup she carefully reached up, brushing some of his long, wild, unkempt hair from his face. She was finally able to get a better look at him, and she feared it would be the only time she got to.  
  
When the tips of her fingers accidentally grazed his cheek she tensed up, but the sound of his delighted sigh put her mildly at ease. Carefully, Eatta cupped his cheek, watching with fascination as Jareth leaned into her touch and hummed his tune a little more sincerely.  
  
"Oh, you _precious_ little thing..." His tone was softer than she'd ever heard from him, and the delicate kiss he placed on her palm was more passionate than any he'd quickly given her before.  
  
He'd playfully nipped at the meat of her thumb, and Eatta found his teeth to be mildly sharp and misplaced, yet when she thought back to his toothy, predatory grin it was dripping with charm and class.  
  
Jareth gave one last little hum against her skin and opened his eyes just a little, like he was still lost in his dream. "Oh, how you turn my world, my sweet..."  
  
Whatever illusion he'd been living in just now was crushed when he glanced back forward and saw Eatta staring at him with fascination, mouth slightly agape at the sight he'd made. The goblin king's sigh was much deeper than before, the sparkle in his eyes dying as he cupped her face.  
  
"Have you finished your little outburst?" He leaned his forehead against her own and looked her straight in the eyes, causing Eatta to shiver in horror.  
  
Gently, so as not to hurt herself in his grip, she nodded, and moved her head so they were touching the tip of each other's noses.  
  
"Was it a nightmare?" The question confused her, and she crinkled her nose at him.  
  
He exhaled through his nose with a chuckle, rubbing his forehead against her own as he spoke slowly. "Bad dream?"  
  
Eatta thought for a moment before nodding. He was giving her an easy out as to why she'd _**screamed**_ at him, and it sounded like a good way to keep him from losing his temper again.  
  
"E... Es tut mir-" before she could finish, he pressed a cold, covered finger to her dry lips, his sharp nail catching on her philtrum. Eatta watched him anxiously, afraid she'd made him mad by speaking.  
  
"Sorry," he spoke softly, his gaze burning right into her eyes. When she didn't say anything, he said it again, this time moving his hand to carefully trace his thumb along her bottom lip.  
  
"S... Sor... Ry...?" The word was butchered on her lips, voice quivering in fear as he lazily nodded.  
  
Eatta repeated it again, a bit more carefully and well meant, and Jareth was far more pleased in her.  
  
They stayed like that for quite some time, staring into each other’s eyes with intimate closeness. Jareth was still as the dead, carefully tracing Eatta's lips while she trembled in fear. Finally, after what felt like hours from the poor girl's anxiety, Jareth sighed and let go of her, standing up.  
  
"We have business to attend to, treasure. Up now, I need to make you presentable." He spoke too quickly and excitedly for Eatta to understand him, but with the animated waving of his hands she was able to understand what he'd wanted of her.  
  
Carefully, she threw her legs over the side of the bed and stood up, shivering harshly as the cold stone floor met her bare feet. Jareth quirked a wild, looming brow at her before turning and waving his hands again at her, leading Eatta out of her chilly room and down the frigid hall.  
  
As they walked the king was going off on some sort of exciting tangent, speaking too fast for the poor girl to understand any of it. The only reprieve she got from him or the cold was when the castle decided to grace her with a window, her familiar friend from before warming her skin with an elegant, playful little dance. A glance out the windows graced her with a chance encounter of a beautiful orange sky, and the gentle _pitter patter pitter patter_ of her feet abruptly ended at the alluring scene. With hesitant steps she faced the window completely, hands resting atop the chilly stone sill and letting the sun’s warm rays seduce her gaze to the world below.  
  
The tangerine sky had led her believe that it was early morning, but the sun’s placement high in the sky, nestled between the salmon clouds sang her a different tune. Glancing down, she found a large city bristling with life, the roar of commotion barely audible from her place in the castle window. With a squint of her ruby eyes she was barely able to make out the silhouettes of the people below, and she shuddered in thought that maybe all of them were the slimy little creatures Jareth had forced into her room the night before. Eatta went slack against the windowsill, frail, pale hands propping her head up as she quietly watched the kingdom below.  
  
From the corner of her vision something caught her eye, and she lazily turned to see. At first glance she thought it a bird, but after several moments of blinking she found it to be a tiny child with wings. She was so astounded and awestruck she hadn’t noticed her posture was stiff and straight as could be, and when the small girl began to sing Eatta was overwhelmed with the urge to bring the creature closer. Her entire being was homed in on the girl, extending her arms out and leaning forward to coax her into her hands. More and more of her intoxicating dancer greeted her skin, warming the chill from her being the farther and farther she reached. Every time Eatta thought she had her, the child would fly further away, singing in a language she’d never heard and giggling as she waved the human closer. She was _so close,_ Eatta **almost had her,** just a _**little more and she’d-**_  
  
She was suddenly pulled from her thoughts when a harsh grip grabbed her arm and threw her onto the stone floor, eyes torn away from the creature and finding herself looking up at the ceiling. Eatta blinked a few times and glanced around, hazy thoughts of desperation leaving her mind as she tried to remember what was happening. That same grip from before grabbed the front of her nightgown and she was hauled to her feet, limp in the goblin king’s hold as she looked up at him.  
  
“What on _Underground_ were you _**thinking?!”**_ Jareth was burning with rage, snarling at Eatta so loud it hurt her ears, spit flying from his mouth as he shook her in his hold. She tried to look around him and out the window, but he shoved her back against the wall and pinned her in place.  
  
“Do you have _any_ idea what a fall from this **height** would _**do to you?!”**_ He was snarling at her still, grabbing her jaw and forcing Eatta to look him in the eyes, gloved claws digging into her face hard enough she felt like he was going to stab her. _“Well?_ **Say something** you _**stupid girl!”**_  
  
But she couldn’t. Several times she opened and closed her mouth, looking for something, _anything_ to say, but she couldn’t find the words. And Jareth kept her there like that, the cold of the castle walls seeping into exposed skin, the front of her nightgown torn to shreds, and the king’s gaze piercing her just as sharply as his talons.  
  
Eventually, Jareth’s rage subsided, and he let her go, backing away from Eatta and the wall. With a heavy sigh he ran a hand through his long, tangled mess of a head of hair, turning away from the German girl to look out the window. The creature from before flew over to the window’s edge, and with a flick of his wrists and a high-pitched scream she was crushed to death beneath a large crystal. With a flick and a snap, the crystal was gone, and Eatta had to force her gaze down and to the right to keep from vomiting at the sight.  
  


“A _**pest**_ to kill a pest, and no more windows.” 


	4. A Trick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely hate this chapter and I'm sorry it's so terrible, it really isn't my best work but I was at a point where I just needed to write it down and get it out. Also, I'm ignoring the comic canon for the sake of my own story.

Bruises were already in the process of blooming by the time Eatta was soaking in a tub of hot water, sitting in the pink tinged liquid and watching the petals float around her rigid form. The intoxicating smell of sweet roses did little to lure her into any sense of security, afraid of her fiancé’s prying eyes and wandering hands. But the king never left his spot from the other room, perched in his most favorite chair twirling his crystals.  
  
Hesitantly, almost fearfully, Eatta pawed at all the strange bottles and products Jareth kept within reach of the tub, reading over each and every label. She sat there for several moments and just stared at them all, unsure of what to do. Just when all hope seemed lost and she was turned towards the chamber door ready to call for the king's help, a few of the bottles began to shake and shuffle with irritation, making the girl turn back around and gasp.  
  
Before she even had time to process the strange development, the products were all at once in the air and being poured over top Eatta, spare cloths joining the skyward ball of cleanliness and rubbing the oils and concoctions into her hair and skin. She sat in the tub stiff and rigid, letting the apparently sentient hygiene helpers do their job, shaking in freight of the possibilities that could occur from one wrong move.  
  
The cloths worked all the way down her short, choppy hair and onto her skin, lathering her up and removing any trace of dirt she night have accumulated during her journey to the Underground. Eatta's eyes focused on anything and everything else in the room, her gaze wandering as she tried to find something to distract herself during the unpleasant experience. However, as the rags made their trek back up her body, they dug into her neck and shoulders, massaging and working the muscles there to right her stiffness. Involuntarily, Eatta gave a small hum, smiling a little as the tension and knots were pleasurably worked out of her body by the two rags. After what felt like a blissful eternity, the magicked cloths went back to their place of origin and Jareth was in the doorway, twirling his crystals around.  
  
"My treasure, it's time to get out now. We've got a _busy_ day ahead of us, and places **aplenty** to be." His voice was much softer than it had been in the hallway, and when Eatta turned to greet him she found a floating towel hiding her view of Jareth.  
  
"Come now, _precious,_ my patience is _**waning."**_ His words held a venomous bite beneath their sugary sweet tone, and she found herself rushing to climb out and dry herself with the soft, luxurious towel, watching Jareth walk away from the bathroom and disappear around the corner.  
  
She stood alone in the bathroom and waited quietly, arms held tightly to her chest to keep the covering of her body in place, too terrified to move. The cold stone clashed against the soles of her warm, bare feet dripping scented water where she stood, and Eatta swore no amount of sunshine could make the room any less dreary.  
  
Before her thoughts could take anymore sharp turns, Jareth reappeared in the doorway, irritation clear on his face. "Well don't just _loiter_ about now, get in here and get changed! I need to make adjustments."  
  
Eatta quickly rushed out of the bathroom, standing stock still in the cleanest part of Jareth's room. Quick glances laid the room bare before her gaze, any flat surfaces covered high with empty bottles of strong liquor and dirty clothes. As she stood there and watched, Jareth was busy waving his arms and practically prancing about, the clutter and mess before him flying out and around the room, making its home somewhere new. The bottles from before were marching from their spots in new formation out the door, into a tower. Dirty clothes gave an elegant ballroom dance with their respective partners and with just a few twirls, they were as clean as the day they'd been brand new, swinging and twirling away through another door to wherever they lived.  
  
In little to no time the room was spotless; the only things out of place being the unkempt goblin king, the miserable girl, and a stationary outfit flittering around Eatta. She wasn't sure what to do, pulling her towel closer against her body as one of the white sleeves of the frilly shirt ran the hem of its long sleeve across her collarbone and shoulders.  
  
With a snap of his fingers the towel she'd been so desperately clutching to flew out of her reach and hid Jareth from her sight, making the girl yelp and reach back out for it.  
  
"Here you are, Eatta. Now _quickly,_ get changed so I can make adjustments and finish your hair." His tone was gentle but left no room for negotiation, so with the use of context clues she grabbed the sensually swaying blouse and trousers, watching them fall slack and limp from her touch.  
  
A small smile crossed her features as she stepped into the dress pants, the silliness of the entire situation making itself apparent to her. ,,Tanzen Kleidung? Das ist albern, Eatta."  
  
However, her smile very quickly fell when she realized the clothes were far too big for her petite body. She was practically drowning in Jareth's shirt, the deep opening nearly exposing her chest to the king as she struggled to keep the pants around her waist.  
  
Shyly, she peered around the towel at Jareth, catching his gaze. His mismatched eyes held an emotion she couldn't quite decipher, and the ghost of a smile sat snuggly on his lips. When the towel fell limp on the floor with a snap of his nail clad fingers, the mere sight of Eatta was enough to make Jareth bark out a laugh. The poor girl's cheeks grew red with embarrassment as she looked up at him, freeing one of her hands to cover the dip of his blouse.  
  
"I must say, I got quite lucky with you, my dear. You're absolutely adorable in my wardrobe." He grabbed one of her puffed out cheeks with his hand, tugging and pulling as she stiffened up before him. Yes, he absolutely _**delighted**_ in how palpable her vulnerability was with him, and the mere sight of her fear was enough to make him forget how _horrible_ his life had been these past years.  
  
With one final pinch that was hard enough to make Eatta wince in pain he clapped his hands together loudly, then waved them around her form. Slowly, the outfit she bore before him tightened around herself, and all at once it was a perfect fit for her.  
  
"Wonderful love, you're a little me." Eatta could hardly fight the scowl on her face, her chest still almost inappropriately exposed in the tight, form fitting blouse. Her scowl grew even further as she watched the Goblin King’s gaze travel along her form, taking in every swell and curve the tight clothing showed him, and noticeably taking in her exposed skin from the neck down to the middle of her abdomen.  
  
Eventually, the king snapped his gaze away from the sight of her nearly intimate skin and stomped back out the room and into the bathroom. If Eatta strained her ears she could just catch the sound of Jareth grumbling about in there, sending products flying out of the room with his magic. He walked back in and began his work on her hair quietly as he stood before her, concentrating like a conductor during an orchestra, waving his arms around for the second time that day. With a masterful artistry the scissors performed ballet through the air towards her hair, evening out the choppy, mismatched length as a jewel encrusted brush cascaded through the knotted, short locks of silver hair. After only a few agonizing minuets that seemed to stretch on for an eternity, Jareth was finished, and stood before her to admire his work.  
  
“What a pity,” he chortled, twirling one of his fingers as he began to walk out of the room. “There’s no _women’s_ clothing in the entire castle!” Eatta felt a foreign force working within herself, its presence burning beneath her skin as she tried to resist it.  
  
 _“Such_ a pity,” Jareth looked at her over his shoulder, honey coated voice dripping with venom as he now twirled two fingers, including his wrist in the action. “That there’s _nothing_ to protect you from **any** prying eyes!” The burning grew more intense and she felt sweat beginning to build up at the base of her neck, compulsion forcing her feet to move forward to keep up with Jareth.  
  
 _ **“You’re**_ a pity,” he scorned, giving both wrists a twist and a flick, delighting in the panic of Eatta’s body suddenly moving faster than before, marching in front of him like a mechanical toy. “Thinking fairytales end in _happily ever after’s_ all the time!” His sudden rage made Eatta turn her head frightfully to look at him, but despite how hard she tried she couldn’t make herself turn around to face him.  
  
During all this panic she hadn’t noticed the eventual stopping of her feet, shaking in place in the center of a large, near bare room bustling with life. Slimy little creatures ran about at her feet, a few being brave enough to stop before her and openly stare. Tears pricked the girl’s eyes as her hands began to shake profusely, thankful for the magic controlling her body as she felt her weak knees give out below her, knowing that the cruelty of the king was the only thing keeping her up.  
  
However, even that little miracle was short lived as Jareth snapped his fingers from behind her, Eatta making _sudden_ and **hard** contact with the cold stone floors below her. She curled in on herself and sobbed unapologetically before the king and his subjects, quietly wishing in her native tongue that someone would take her away from this _awful_ place she’d found herself in.  
  
She’d been crying so hard she hadn’t noticed she was beginning to choke on her own tears, and when Jareth suddenly grabbed her shoulder and turned her around, she wailed even harder, curling in tighter to hide him from her view.  
  
“There’s no one to save you now _**girl.**_ Like it or not, you’re _mine_ now.” His nails dug deep into her upper arm as he hauled her up to her feet, tearing into the blouse’s sleeve and biting harshly into her skin.  
  
With one hand the Goblin King conjured a crystal and threw it at the ground, shattering it into pieces and causing Eatta to shield her face into his side and give one last pathetic sob. In just seconds after shattering the crystal, massive purple flames appeared before the two of them, and now she clung to her monster for dear life, afraid the very mouth of hell was about to swallow her whole.  
  
And then, suddenly, she was calm. Those horrible hands she feared so much wrapped tenderly around her shoulder and Eatta meekly looked up at Jareth, only now realizing she had hidden her face in his chest. His smile was warm, loving, _genuine,_ and finally, she felt like the nightmare of this deal was about to end. Those hands she was growing to love gave her a gentle squeeze, reassuring her without the use of words that everything was going to be okay. That _**she**_ was going to be okay. She relented her hold on him, her hands gently wrapped around his waist as the two of them just stood there and looked at one another in the eyes. It almost felt intimate, like maybe they were _finally_ going to be lovers, and some sick part of Eatta _**wished**_ that this was the truth.  
  
And then she was pushed. Jareth had sent her hurtling through the air, her body being intensely enveloped by warm flames, panic and tears renewing itself as she felt the ends of her nerves practically burning apart. She flailed her arms as if to try and save herself, but nothing was there. Nothing could save her. No one could save her. Yet nothing compared to the sight she saw before her, hand outstretched towards it in one last effort to save herself from a terrible fate.  
  


Jareth was laughing like he’d _**never**_ laughed before, a cruel twinkle in his eyes and a malevolent twist to his lips as the flames swallowed her whole.


End file.
